By Marjorie Chesebro
PROMPT — The way I see it ...
One might say
A mental illness
is an exaggeration of what is already there
hidden beneath layers and layers
of unconscious thought.
While manic,
I discovered a photographic memory of songs.
Songs – their melodies – their lyrics.
My brain held them all
Every single song
I had ever heard.
The brain I was born with−
my birthright
before the monstrous behaviors
of my father
buried it
deep down
seemingly lost
undiscoverable
unreachable.
Mania
removed the veil
ripped open the curtain
unleashed my power.
Mania
brought the uncontrollable urge to sing.
Every single song
I had ever heard.
One might say
a mental illness
is a curse
an abomination
an aberration.
I say
it is my gift
my offering
my prize.
Marjorie Chesebro was born in Michigan, has resided in Texas for over 20 years, and has been writing poetry since her high school years. She has self-published two volumes of poetry: Mental States: A Poet’s Journey and Patchwork of Poetry. Marjorie writes from Newark, Texas.
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